


To Be Someone

by Nier



Series: You, Who Tempers the Flames that Burn in Me [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Budding Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nier/pseuds/Nier
Summary: Ever since Eivor helped him settle things with Wilf, Tarben notice that the drengr would often come by in the mornings, just as the loaves of fresh bread leave the heat of the kiln, and lean by the entrance with Dwolfgr in tow.
Relationships: Eivor/Tarben (Assassin's Creed)
Series: You, Who Tempers the Flames that Burn in Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022176
Comments: 9
Kudos: 92





	To Be Someone

**Author's Note:**

> the lack of Eivor/Tarben is criminal.

Ever since Eivor helped him settle things with Wilf, Tarben notice that the drengr would often come by in the mornings, just as the loaves of fresh bread leave the heat of the kiln, and lean by the entrance with Dwolfgr in tow.

“Always the firsts to line up for my bread, I see,” Tarben teases but doesn’t miss the way Eivor’s smirk reaches his eyes that glint with something he can’t quite place.

“Dwolfgr loves your baking. And I wanted to say a quick greeting before heading out.”

And Tarben can live with that.

After all, he owes Eivor so much.

With a loaf of bread in Dwolfgr’s mouth and happy tail wags, Tarben sees the pair walk towards the edge of the settlement—disappearing into the woods.

***

It’s Tarben the first to see him after the _incident_ with Tove.

The draft he feels is nothing compared to the heat that’s building underneath his skin. “Care to stare some more?”

A booming and hearty laugh is the reply he gets. “Oh, Eivor. What happened to your locks?”

Eivor shudders at the memory.

Let’s just say that it includes a runaway chicken, Dwolfgr, a startled Tove with blade and a helpless Eivor who’s hair happened to pay the price in this story.

Luckily for him Tove managed to fix it… the best she could. “I don’t want to talk about it, Tarben.”

Tarben gives him a one-over before placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently with a warm smile. “Well if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me, _vinur.”_

Eivor feels the ghost of a smile forming. “I will friend. Thank you.”

Needless to say, he did go to Tarben’s home later and told him exactly what happened beat by beat.

Eivor finds that the laughter and presence of Tarben make the whole thing seem so small to compared everything he’s been through.

That and the mead.

Mead makes everything better.

***

There are times, when neither of them are doing anything in particular—like when Eivor’s around the settlement for downtime from running one end of England to the other, forming alliances and whatnot. Or when Tarben has the dough ready for tomorrow’s batch of bread—that they spend their free time together by the dock fishing.

It has a calming effect on both of them, namely Eivor.

The sound of the small waves has a soothing resonance that lets him drop his guard—almost to a visible degree, from what Randvi says the times she’s seen them both fishing.

“This is nice,” he hears Tarben say as Eivor watches him reel another fish in.

He can’t help but agree to that. “Yeah, it is.”

And then adds a beat later after much contemplation. “Thank you.”

“Oh?”

The curious tone in Tarben’s voice makes Eivor look up from his line to him.

Tarben’s looking at him with a raised brow and a crooked grin, anticipation dancing in his eyes.

Heat seeps into his skin as Eivor clears his throat. “For fishing—I mean... spending a little of your time with me, when I’m here.”

Tarben’s grin grows marginally bigger. “It’s no problem at all. Fishing relaxes me, and what better company to have than Eivor the Wolf-kissed!”

“Aye, you flatter me,” Eivor places a hand on Tarben’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

And if he leaves his hand on Tarben’s shoulder for longer than needed, well.

It’s no one’s business.

***

There, standing next to the bonfire surrounded by the settlement’s children, is Eivor telling them tales of yore.

Tales of heroes and Magick.

And Tarben can’t help but feel his chest do funny things as he sees and hear Eivor animate his voice to fit the character and the way he sweeps in and plays out the story with his body.

And just for a moment, sapphire blues meet earthy browns.

Tarben sees the way Eivor’s face fights to stay in-character and wanting to break into a shy-awkward smile.

Once the fires die down and everyone’s gone home, it’s just him and Eivor sitting by the dying embers.

No words need to be shared between them.

Not even when Tarben feels Eivor’s fingers brush against his before the drengr lays his hand on top clasping them together.

Words would ruin the moment—it’s just the two of them enjoying each other’s presence in peace and tranquility.

***

Eivor isn’t normally the type to bring useless things back with him to the settlement.

Except the artifacts for Octavius.

Let’s face it, the man pays well in silver.

But, right now, he finds himself going out of his way to find a rare mineral called Opal.

Ever since Reda established shop in the settlement, he’s noticed that a few of the town’s folk—and Tarben have been eyeing all the exotic goods he sells.

A quick talk with Reda and he learns that Tarben’s been inquiring about a set of scrolls containing baking recipes from Francia.

And well, that’s all it took for Eivor to set out in search of this mineral.

He’s killing two birds with one stone.

The bakery will boon from these scrolls.

And Tarben’s face when he hands said scrolls will be priceless.

***

Their first kiss is unexpected.

Maybe a result of lack of balance.

Maybe it was the mead.

But they find themselves in a corner of the longhouse, a feast roaring.

“I thought you could hold your mead down,” Eivor muses, his hands on Tarben’s hip.

Tarben groans and grinds a little into Eivor. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

This makes Eivor raise a brow appreciatively but more than happily complies.

***

Tarben is unusually gentle their first time, treating Eivor like if he were glass.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks concerned and Eivor doesn’t hesitate to say no.

Between kisses, bites and moans Eivor edges him harder and faster, nails digging against his back and Tarben complies.

Randvi notices the way Eivor is walking the next morning but holds it to herself.

If anyone asks, it was all Eivor’s fault.

***

The time is ripe and Tarben leans down, tilting Eivor’s head towards his own and kisses him deeply.

They’ve never said the words “I love you”.

There is no need to.

Their actions are just enough to leave the rest unspoken, a quiet whisper, just for the two of them.


End file.
